


to give credit

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>verb (used with object)</i><br/>14. to believe; put confidence in; trust; have faith in.<br/>15. to bring honor, esteem, etc., to; reflect well upon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to give credit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eicinic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eicinic/gifts).



> for the tumblr prompt 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified', prompted by eicinic. originally posted [here](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com/post/132344623793/this-is-an-absolute-challenge-32-bokuken) \- this is an improved and revised version. thanks to bishop for looking over it.

Kenma watches.

He watches Bokuto’s big hands wrap around volleyballs, bottles, people. He watches how he smiles. Bokuto has so many smiles - not like Shouyou, who only grins wide and happy every time he meets Kenma’s eyes. There is something more subtle, something older in Bokuto’s curling smiles. It makes Kenma swallow and look away, his finger squeezing around his phone.

It’s ridiculous. It’s just because he reminds him of Shouyou, he tells himself, even though he’s known Bokuto for two years now, and Shouyou not even one.

It’s just because he reminds him of Shouyou, he tells himself, and ignores the fact that they feel so _different_. Shouyou feels safe, whether it’s pecking Kenma’s cheeks innocently or sending him good morning texts.

Bokuto feels dangerous. A menace, always telling him to eat or play or keep in shape, so quick to joke with Kuroo and bother Akaashi and then go straight back to nagging at Kenma, telling him to do this thing, or that thing, and “do you always have to be on your phone, Kenma?”

“Yes,” Kenma always replies quietly, putting it up like a defense, and Kuroo will cart Bokuto off, telling him to leave him alone.

“Don’t bother him,” Kuroo scolds Bokuto, where Kenma can still hear them.

“Don’t bother ‘im, don’t bother ‘im,” Bokuto replies genially. “‘S not like he minds! What are you, his keeper? Wrong sport.”

“That’s not -” Kuroo stops and breathes in. “Just be careful with him, alright?”

“He’d tell me if he wanted me to piss off,” Bokuto says. “C’mon, Kuroo, give him some credit here. And me! I’m not that stupid.”

Maybe that’s what’s dangerous about him. He doesn’t let Kenma retreat.

He gives Kenma credit. Not many people bother to do so.

Kenma is _very_ unimpressed by the concept.

(And yet - it wouldn’t take much to send Bokuto away. _Leave me alone. I’m serious_ . Two simple words - _I'm serious -_ and he’d bully his own kouhai instead. Two simple words, but they stick in Kenma’s throat, and it’s easier to swallow them than to face why he won’t. And he’s fine with that, swallowing things down is always easiest, keeping the status quo.

Bokuto is bad at keeping the status quo.)

*

“Hey, Kenma!”

It’s training camp; evening, the timbers from the fire dying down. Kenma likes this time of day; he can see his screen without shading it, and he can even turn the brightness down to save battery. He’s sitting by himself, having made a tacit pact with the rest of the training camp to leave him alone, let him recharge.

“Heeey, Kenma.”

He looks up, brows knitting. “What do you want?”

Bokuto leans over him, grinning widely. “Hey, Akaashi’s wiped, come toss with me for a bit.”

“No,” Kenma says simply and goes back to his game. Bokuto exhales loudly and sits down on the log beside him, looking out.

“ _Fine_. It was a long shot, I guess.” He falls quiet, so quiet it’s remarkable; Kenma could almost forget he was there, except for the insistent heat where their knees touch. “How are you doing, anyway?”

Tap-tap, goes Kenma’s stylus. “I’m fine.”

“That’s cool. I’m fine, too. More than.”

Kenma nods absently. He’s trying to focus on his game, but their knees are still touching, and something’s stopping him from moving away. “Did you want anything else?”

“Nah,” Bokuto says, long and slow. He bumps their shoulders together, light and harmless, not enough to jostle Kenma. “Just wanted to hang out with someone, you know?”

“And you chose me?”

Something in Kenma’s voice makes Bokuto pause; Kenma looks up from his game to meet luminous, hazy-golden eyes and a slow grin. “Yeah,” he says finally. “I chose you. That okay?”

Kenma nods, quick and firm, and looks down again.

“Good,” Bokuto says, and then he leans back, so far he falls over - he lies down with his back on the ground, legs sprawled over the log, staring up at the sky. “Y’see, Kenma, here’s the thing. I..” He takes a breath. Tap-tap, goes Kenma’s stylus. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Or, at least I like you a lot. So much that it’s - kinda terrifying.”

Kenma’s stylus stills.

“I just thought you should know that,” Bokuto says faintly after a pause. “Anyway! I’ll leave you alone now.” He gets up unsteadily, bracing himself on his knees, and Kenma is still frozen, staring down at his game.

Bokuto never makes any sense.

“Okay,” Bokuto says again. “I’m going now.. just making sure you know.” He starts to retreat after another pause and Kenma’s head darts up to watch him go. Bokuto likes him, he likes _him_ , he _likes_ him..? _Him?_ The sudden rush of emotion washes over him like a wave, sudden and uncomfortable. Bokuto likes him, Bokuto trusts him, trusts him enough to tell him something like this. Kenma looks around, but everyone else has abandoned the dying fire; he stands up, hands shaking, running after Bokuto and bowling them both over so they fall onto the grass, Bokuto grunting with the impact. “What the - Kenma -”

Kenma pushes at him until he can close his eyes and press their lips together firmly and inexpertly.

He always thought it would hurt, that it would be something forceful and terrifying, but Bokuto’s lips are soft, and his eyes - when Kenma finally opens his - are just as scared as his own. “Huh,” Bokuto says finally, a soft exhale, his gaze roving over Kenma’s face.

“I think,” Kenma says, and takes a deep, shuddery inhale. “I think I like you too.”

Bokuto’s big hand curls in his hair and he smiles, one of the smiles with such a myriad of feeling behind it Kenma can’t parse it all - and he doesn’t have time before Bokuto kisses him, his eyes falling closed.

Bokuto is dangerous, but he can be kind. His hand is gentle. He’s safe, too, in his own way.

“We should move,” Kenma says softly. He doesn’t want to be interrupted. Anyone from Nekoma finding him means thinking about how to explain this. It means he’d have to put words to this unfamiliar moment of trust, even though it’s so fresh and bright it’s impossible to think of any.

“In a moment. Let me kiss you again,” Bokuto replies, voice a hot murmur on his lips.

Kenma does.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me about bokuto rarepairs on: [twitter](http://twitter.com/tivruskis) | [tumblr](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com)


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